


I'm going all the way down I'm leaving today

by Kat



Series: I wish I could put the blame on you [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sneezing, sneezing fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat/pseuds/Kat
Summary: Anything, he'll do anything to ease the need electrifying his veins, anything to keep him here.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge
Series: I wish I could put the blame on you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831363
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	I'm going all the way down I'm leaving today

**Author's Note:**

> While this has BDSM elements, it's pretty singularly focused. If the kinks listed in tags aren't yours, this prob. won't float your boat.

Smashed up my sanity  
Smashed up integrity  
Smashed up what I believed in  
Smashed up what's left of me  
Smashed up my everything  
Smashed up all that was true  
Gonna smash myself to pieces  
I don't know what else to do  
~ Nine Inch Nails, Gave up

Sirens wail closer. Junkrat reaches into the chopper’s saddle bag and pulls free a handful of brightly painted grenades. Police cars screech around the corner, lights flashing red/blue/red. Junkrat taps Roadhog’s back in warning and lobs the grenades. “Fire in the hole!” The grenades bounce twice and explode, sending the cars up in a gout of flames. A burst of laughter, “Got ‘em! Go, Roadie, go!”

Roadhog leans forward and accelerates. Junkat leans with him, still laughing. The motorcycle thrums between Junkrat’s legs. Roadhog’s leather jacket is warm and smooth on his chest. The electric thrill of a heist pulled off, the lingering scent of smoke and explosives and leather, and the sun burning over the top of his head swirl together into a heady rush and Junkrat shivers with sudden need.

They pull into the yard with a spray of gravel and Roadhog cuts the engine.

“Fuckin’ aces, mate. Profesh job, that..” He claps Roadhog on the back, then rifles through the saddlebag, divvying up the cash, checking what’s left of his explosives.

“Time to move on, Junkrat.”

Rat’s hands still. Feels like everything stops - heart, blood, breath, time. “What’dya mean,” he asks, as if he can’t understand Roadhog’s words through the mask. As if he doesn’t know exactly what Roadhog means.

“We’re done here. Got what I need from you.”

Junkrat straightens up, looks at Roadhog over the motorcycle. He’s like a wall - arms crossed, feet planted. Mask blank as always, face hidden behind. A ringing in Junkrat’s ears, like he stood too close to one of his bombs. He wants to say ‘what’ again. Doesn’t. An odd crack seems to fissure through him. “No, ya ain’t.” He knows what he needs to do - lets his body go loose, cocks his hip.

Roadhog doesn’t move, but Rat can feel the heat of his gaze through the mask.

Junkrat approaches, warily. “Ya ain’t got half of what I can give to you.” He cups Roadhog’s cock through his jeans, breathes a small sigh of relief as he feels it hardening under his touch.

Before Junkrat can move back, Roadhog reaches out, fists his hand in Junkrat’s hair and tugs his head back, baring his throat. “Gonna give me whatever I want to take,” he growls, somehow both a question and a statement.

Junkrat swallows, desire like a punch to the gut. “Yeah.”

Roadhog tugs harder. “Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir,” Junkrat forces the words through a suddenly dry throat.

Roadhog moves behind him and Junkrat licks his lips. Can’t see him, can’t know what he’s gonna do. Breath goes shallow, heart stuttering in his chest. Feels like his whole body tingles with the ache of needing to know. Suddenly Roadhog’s hand comes down on his shoulder.

“I want to do terrible things to you,” Roadhog’s words ghost across his cheek. He slides his hand across Junkrat’s collar bone to his neck. The calluses on his fingertips rasp along Junkrat’s skin and it sends a shiver racing down his back. His thumb rests in the hollow of Junkrat’s throat, fingers curled around the back of his neck and he squeezes, carefully. Junkrat sighs, groans. Roadie could snap his neck without a thought. His knees go weak.

Junkrat turns his head, kisses the back of Roadhog’s hand. “Please,” he whispers.

“Please what?”

“Please, sir. Anything.” Brain short circuiting, can’t form coherent thoughts. Anything, he’ll do anything to ease the need electrifying his veins, anything to keep him here.

Roadhog chuckles and it rumbles low in his chest. He digs his fingers into Rat’s shoulder hard enough to leave bruises and drags him into the house. Rat stumbles as Roadhog pushes him toward a chair, slams the door behind them, clicks the bolt home. Least Rat’s on this side of the door. Doesn’t particularly care what he has to do to stay here - done plenty in his life and for worse people.

“Sit,” Roadhog says. Without a thought, Rat does. Roadhog crosses the room to him, a length of rope sliding between his hands. “You’re too fucking jumpy. Gonna sit still for a change.”

Junkrat doesn’t move as he wraps the rope tight around wrists, chest and ankles. When Roadhog steps back, Rat tugs experimentally at the knots. Tight enough he’s not going anywhere, ‘less Hog lets him. The knowledge is unsettling and it goes straight to his own cock. He wants to play it tough, act like this is nothing, but he can’t bring himself to speak. He struggles a little against the ropes, and Roadhog watches him, impassive behind the mask. 

A long minute stretches between them where neither speak, and Junkrat begins to think maybe he’d miscalculated this one. As if to confirm his suspicion, Roadhog turns abruptly and leaves the room. Fear spikes as cabinets open and close. What’s he getting? He tugs harder at the ropes, but they just bite into his wrists and ankles until he relaxes.

Slowly he becomes aware of a pungent scent. It’s sharp and cold and it makes him sniffle. An ominous buzzing starts in the back of his sinuses. He wrinkles his nose, wishes he could rub it. The prickling itch extends to his eyes and when he blinks tears rise. Shit.

When Roadhog returns, he’s shed his jacket and shirt. But what catches Junkrat’s notice is the flowers casually tucked behind his left ear. They’re red and look like fireworks. Just seeing them makes Junkrat want to sneeze. Roadhog pulls a stool up and sits right in front of Junkrat.

“H...hey, mate… _hiiih.._ Uh, that shit ma...makes me sneeze,” he manages to say, even as his breath goes stuttery.

Roadhog tilts his head slightly, studies Rat, says nothing.

Feels like every nerve in his face is itching. Wants to rub his nose so fucking badly. “R...really. Ge..get rid of it.”

Without warning, Roadhog’s hand flashes out, slaps him across the cheek. A bright star of pain blooms on his cheek. “You do not make the decisions.”

Rat wants to apologize - forgot for a second - but before he can he feels a sneeze come over him. “ _Hiiih…”_

“Don’t do it,” Roadhog says suddenly and like he controls even involuntary actions, Junkrat’s sneeze disappears.

He blinks in dismay. Tears drip down his cheeks and he sniffles. “What?”

“Do not sneeze until I give you permission.”

Junkrat groans. “I… I don’t th...think I can. Least let me itch my nose. Please.”

Roadhog shakes his head. And then he leans forward and brushes a tear away from Rat’s cheek with his thumb. Rat nearly jerks away before the gentleness of the touch registers. He sighs, nuzzles against Roadhog’s hand.

His whole body is alight with wanting.Wants to rub his nose, wants to rub his cock, wants to let the sneezes clear every ticklish bit of pollen from his nose. Wants his whole body to feel as warm as his cheek. Wants to please Roadhog. More than anything, wants to please Roadhog.

Tries to breathe carefully, like that’ll make a difference. Don’t let the breaths hitch, keep slow and steady. Wished he could see Roadhog's expression. Ugh - the pollen is ticking mercilessly. Without consciously deciding to, he tries to rub his nose in his shoulder. Can’t. The tickle is building. Sharp pinpricks deep in his nose.He sucks in a breath, bites his tongue. Don’t sneeze, he tells himself. Don’t sneeze. Don’t… his eyes flutter closed. Every single bit of his attention is focused on the competing needs - sneeze; don’t sneeze.

He feels his eyebrows crumple, his lips draw back from his teeth. Sneeze. Don’t sneeze. He needs to, has to, can’t… Even as he struggles against it the sneeze crests “ _Ha’tt!”_ with the last bit of his control he forces it back. He sighs, keeping his eyes closed. Can’t stand to see himself reflected in Roadhog’s lenses- snotty and tear stained and teetering on the edge of what feels like a massive sneezing fit.

Then suddenly he feels the softest puffing brush of one of the flowers as Roadhog dusts it over his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. “Roadie… ple _ahhh… please…”_

“Go ahead, Rat. Sneeze.”

The permission comes just in time. He shudders as far forward as the ropes will allow as the first sneeze slams him like a grenade. “ _Huh’Rruusshuh! R’isssha! Issh! Issha!”_ He drags in a breath, only to sneeze again. “ _Ht’chh! T’chhh! Ah’isshah!”_ He keeps his eyes tight shut as he rocks forward with sneeze after sneeze. His face is hot, whether from exertion or embarrassment, he’s not sure. Slowly the urge begins to let up. He’s able to snag a breath or two between sneezes. “ _Huh-Rissshuh! … … … Ah’Riiiish-ah!”_ The last sneeze takes everything from him and he lets himself slump forward against the restraints.

Snick of a blade and Junkrat’s eyes flash open. Roadhog leans forward and slices the through ropes with one swift motion.“You’re a mess,” he says.

Junkrat wants to hide, to turn away from the awful blank stare of the mask, but he can’t. He lets himself be seen by the invisible eyes and the feeling is both horrible and perfect.

“Kneel.”

Junkrat drops down. He doesn’t question what to do next, because this part he knows. He tugs open Roadhog’s fly and frees his cock. He’s hard and waiting and Junkrat takes him in his mouth with one smooth motion and begins to suck. Their bodies rock and thrust in tandem and Junkrat wraps his arms around Roadhog’s legs.

Just let me stay, he thinks. Just let me stay and I will do anything, everything. Just don’t make me be alone again.

At last, Roadhog stiffens with a groan. He sighs, steps back, contemplates Junkrat, still on his knees, face wet and eyes bleary with allergic tears. “Maybe you can stick around a little longer,” he says.


End file.
